


A Drunken Night in Paris

by SkySparker



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FrUK, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentioned America (Hetalia), Mentioned Canada (Hetalia), Minor England/France (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 23:44:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20554661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkySparker/pseuds/SkySparker
Summary: France is the nation of love, though he doesn't always feel loved. Sometimes his thoughts can be a little too much to handle.





	A Drunken Night in Paris

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot that I may or may not turn into a story to explore the darker parts of France's character. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading!

Admittedly, Francis had probably drunk a bit too much wine that evening, but at the time he couldn’t bring himself to care. Had one of his fellow nations or his boss seen him in such a state, they would have been perplexed. After all, there was nothing wrong with his nation. Nothing to mourn over. No significant reason for Francis to get drunk off his ass and wallow in his home.

And yet, there he was.

He took another drag from his cigarette as he laid sprawled over his couch, letting the smoke fill his lungs before he sent it back out into the air with a quiet sigh. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the singular crack on his ceiling – the only flaw in the otherwise miraculous home. He reached out a hand and blindly picked up the cheap wine bottle from his floor, pressing it to his lips and downing the rest of the liquid within. He tossed the now empty bottle carelessly onto the other end of the couch, listening to it clink against the others he had already finished. 

With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself off of the couch and stood, swaying slightly as he tried to steady himself. He snatched his cellphone and cigarette case off of the end table as he passed on his way to the balcony. Extinguishing his old cigarette and tossing it to the side, he pulled out a fresh one and placed it between his lips. He pushed the balcony door to the side and stepped out into the crisp air, the busy sounds of Paris greeting him. Francis leaned against the railing as he looked out at the dark streets, watching a few couples walk by. The blond nation smiled bitterly and turned his gaze to his phone, thumb hovering over the name that had been lighting up the screen for the past hour. He read carefully over the foreign letters for a few minutes, taking in the familiar name. Shifting to lean most of his weight against the railing, he pressed the name, putting the phone to his ear and listening to the ringing emitting from the speaker. The phone rang four times – not that he cared to pay attention, or, at least, that’s what he told himself – before a groggy and slightly annoyed voice answered.

“France? What the bloody hell are you calling me at 3:00 in the morning for? You better have a goddamn good reason.” 

Instead of answering the question his old enemy had posed, Francis looked out at the city. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like, Arthur?...” 

A long silence answered him, and he could hear the other man move around briefly. 

“Wonder what, Francis?... Are you drunk?” Came the eventual reply. 

Francis gave a hum before he pulled his lighter from his pocket and lit the cigarette between his lips. “Sometimes I find myself wondering what it’s like to be human. To be free of this eternal life cursed with war and pain,” he whispered into the phone, taking in a deep breath of smoke. “I think it would be better if we only lived for a short while, non? We could live a life worth living.”

“Francis, what are you saying, you bloody fool? We do live a life worth living. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our jobs. We protect our people, you know that. You can’t waste your fucking time fantasizing about the impossible. Pull yourself together… I didn’t save your sorry arse during the war for you to just quit!”

The French nation let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“I’m aware of my duties and of how much you’ve done for me, mon ami, but I am tired. I’m tired and lonely. Humans get to love, laugh, and live freely while we are doomed to lose those we love. It’s a shame, non? God must truly hate us.”

“Is that what this is about? Love?... Francis, I-” he heard the British man sigh before he continued, “I’m sorry. About Joan. If I had known it would have hurt you in this way, I never-”

“It’s not about Joan, Arthur. I forgave you a long time ago.” He huffed quietly and let out a puff of smoke, watching it dissipate across the Parisian night sky.

“…Then what is this really about?” Arthur whispered in response.

Francis could almost imagine the way those thick eyebrows would furrow over emerald green eyes. 

“It’s a pity, really. I don’t think I’ll ever find true happiness. Not like humans do.” 

Silence followed his statement and seconds felt like hours. 

“I thought you were happy?... You have Matthew and Alfred,” the man muttered through the phone, voice unusually quiet. “and you have me. Francis, I’ll be over in a few hours, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid, you bloody frog.” 

Francis pulled the phone back and stared at the screen for a moment, watching as the device notified him of the ended call. Perhaps Arthur had a point. He didn’t have what humans had, but he did have a family – even if it wasn’t a conventional one. Still, that didn’t stop him from wishing. He blinked, reaching up and pulling his hand away from his face. His fingers were wet?

…Oh.

He was crying.

He gave an empty laugh and turned, walking back inside. How silly of him. This was ridiculous. He had work to do. And with that, the French personification made his way to his office, planning to lose himself back into the world of the nations.


End file.
